I hardly know the woman
by lilkawa
Summary: Percy wonders if he knows the woman he's married
**I hardly know the woman**

 _The Scarlet Pimpernel_ doesn't belong to me

000

Percival Blakeney, Bart; stiffened.

He couldn't believe what he was hearing but then why would de Batz lie? He was a man of honour and he was giving an eyewitness account of the events that had happened. Chauvelin had accused St. Cyr of being a traitor to the Republic and had named his accuser as Marguerite St. Just.

Marguerite.

His wife of just a few days and the woman he loved with every fibre of his being. His Margo had had a whole family sent to the guillotine.

Percy smiled at Lady Beck as she passed by and then remembered that he was at a ball where he was expected to be playing the part of the fool enjoying himself. He could see Ffoulkes and Hastings looking at him; they had heard de Batz's words but he nodded slightly at them, he would talk to them when he could but right now it was essential that he act, his life depended on it.

Marguerite looked up from the group of women who were surrounding her – she always had a following – and caught his eye and walked up to him smiling.

"My dear," she said, "I think they are finally playing our song."

"Are they?"

"Percy, you don't fool me with that voice," Marguerite told him, "you know perfectly well that they are and you promised me a dance."

"You know well, Madame," he said, "that I don't dance."

"Surely you don't have to keep up that pretense anymore," she said, "certainly not with me."

"I pray you Madame, forgive me," Percy said, he wanted to hold her in his arms, but he couldn't dare not when de Batz's words were still burning in his ears. "I think it's time you discovered the real me."

"The real you?" Marguerite laughed. How Percy loved her laugh, yet now he could only hear the cheers of the crowds as the St. Cyrs' heads fell off their bodies. "I know the real you, Percy, as you know the real me."

"Do I Madame?" he asked, and would have questioned her further but he knew that this was not the right time and place.

"You don't mind if I cut in, do you Blakeney?"

Percy and Marguerite turned and saw the Prince of Wales standing before them.

"Of course not," Marguerite curtseyed, and would have left the men alone but the Prince asked for her hand and she joined him on the dance floor.

Percy watched the Prince and Marguerite dance and wondered about the woman he had married. Had she been playing a part, like him, all this time? Was she really capable of sending a whole family, of innocents no less, to their death? Did he really love her? He had no answers to first two questions, but the third he had an answer to. He loved Marguerite and even now wondering about her loyalty he knew it with all his heart that he could never love another like he did her.

000

"Is there any truth to de Batz's claim?"

Percy turned to Andrew, his dearest friend, and smiled slightly. "de Batz is generally a trustworthy fellow, wouldn't you say?"

"But surely Marguerite wouldn't have done what he said she did," Andrew said.

"I will ask her," Percy assured his friend, "and then we'll know the truth."

"And…what if she did?" Andrew eyed his friend, "what if she betrayed them?"

"Then I would have made a poor choice of a wife, wouldn't I?"

"Percy, this is no joking matter."

"You don't think I realise how serious this is?" Percy asked his friend.

Andrew took a breath and then told his friend, "I'm only asking because you are friend. I don't want to see you hurt."

"I won't be hurt," Percy assured him.

"I know how much you love her," Andrew reminded him, "if she did this then… we are all at risk."

"Don't worry, my friend," Percy said, "at least not until we have a reason to worry."

Percy walked off and Andrew watched his friend. He hoped for Percy's sake that de Batz had got the wrong end of the stick.

000

"Finally," Marguerite said as she walked towards her rooms. "The ball seemed endless today."

"I believe it was no longer than others we've attended."

"At least at those others I had you by my side," Marguerite reminded him, "I have barely spent any time with you today."

"It was avoidable, my dear."

Marguerite wanted to argue that he could have been with her instead of sitting at every cards table but she kept quiet, there was something troubling him and she wanted him to bring it up not her.

"I heard the strangest thing at the ball today," Percy began.

"Oh?"

"Apparently the Marquis St. Cyr and his whole family were sent to the guillotine."

"Well," Marguerite shuddered, "the guillotine is a terrible death but I can't pretend that I'm sorry the Marquis is dead."

"Can't you?"

"He mistreated dear Armand," Marguerite was passionate. "Had him attacked and beaten."

"So you had his whole family killed for that?" Percy's voice was cold.

"What if I did?" Marguerite asked. "Would you do less for someone you loved?"

"Of course not," Percy forced a smile; he couldn't believe he was still on his feet. Somehow he had fallen in love with and married a traitor; he had married the very person who would probably lead him to his death.

000

"You're not leaving?" Marguerite had slept in and was surprised to find Percy dressed and on the verge on leaving the house.

"I'm afraid I must," Percy replied.

"You could have wakened me," Marguerite teased, "We could have eaten breakfast together."

"You were tired," Percy said, "I didn't think it would be fair to disturb you."

"I wouldn't have minded," Marguerite smiled at him.

"Maybe next time," Percy said.

"What is this urgent business?" Marguerite asked. "You didn't say anything about it last night."

"Sorry, my dear," Percy laughed, a laugh that grated Marguerite's nerves, "I didn't think you would be interested in my visit to my bootmaker."

"Bootmaker?" Marguerite was incredulous. "Surely you have no need for new boots?"

"It seems that I do," Percy insisted. "I saw a new style at the ball last night."

"Can it not wait?"

"I'm afraid not," Percy peeked her on the cheek and walked out.

Marguerite watched the door close behind her husband and wondered what had just happened.

000

Percy leant against the huge polished oak door and took in a breath. This was going to be much harder than he had thought. He had spent the night convincing himself that he didn't love Marguerite but now he knew, he loved her and he didn't think he would ever stop.

000


End file.
